


Batting Average

by LadyMeltintalle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Parents, Baseball, Cheating, Children, Daddy Dylan, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Recreational Drug Use, Slow Build, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-11
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-15 07:53:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1297183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMeltintalle/pseuds/LadyMeltintalle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dylan's five year old daughter asked to be signed up for tee ball that spring, he had no idea what kind of a roller coaster he was in for when he agreed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \---] Dylan's wife is an original character, and they are not happily married, primarily because his wife seemingly isn't a very good mom or wife. I know some people have a problem with 'demonizing' a female character in order to advance a gay romance, so I wanted to put that out there right in the door.  
> \---] Cheating happens, no sugar coating it. This fic will go into detail on cheating, divorce and the emotional backlash these sorts of things have on a family.  
> \---] The slow build is pretty excruciating. I've written 50,000 words and they haven't done the dirty yet, so strap in. You're here for the long haul.

It didn't feel like April already to Dylan. It didn't feel like he should be turning twenty-four this year, he didn't feel like he’d been married five years, and it didn't feel like his daughter should be five years old. It seemed like he and his wife were just holding her in the hospital a few weeks ago, and yet there she was in the back seat of his Camry, hugging her baseball glove to her chest, brown curly ponytail bouncing around through the back of her baseball cap. They say time goes faster as you get older, which Dylan could definitely attest to that, and he --wasn't even that damn old yet. He had just turned eighteen a month before she was born, and he felt like a baby holding his own baby at the time, but he’d grown and learned a lot in the last five years.

He learned little things at first, like how to test formula temperature on his arm, how to change a diaper, how to tell the difference between a fussy cry and a hungry cry; then graduated to learning the theme song from Blues Clues, learning that when the airplane didn't get a bite eaten the choo choo train definitely would...

One thing he hadn't really learned yet was how to tell his daughter ‘no,’ though. Which is why he was currently driving her to her first day of tee ball practice, even though he didn't really have the time or money for her to be involved. But how the hell could he say no to his baby girl taking up his interest in baseball? The moment she had asked him if he was rooting for the “red guys or the blue guys” on the field, she had fallen in love with watching games with him, even if she couldn't quite grasp all the rules just yet.

Most times she would just fall asleep on his chest after a few innings, sucking her thumb and holding her dad’s old mitt that he’d had from high school. It was something he didn't think he’d get to share with his kid, because she was a little girl for one, but also because he couldn't get her mother to sit still for ten minutes of a game, let alone be glued to the television with him. Then again he could hardly get her mother to sit down with him for ten minutes at all, especially not to watch sports, but that’s another story.

“Are we almost there?!”

“Yep, just a few more minutes, ”

“Ugh, you’re killin’ me, daddy!”

Dylan chuckled and turned down the road that the district middle school was on, where practice would take place every Tuesday and Thursday night at four o’clock for the next couple months. It was only half past three now, but she insisted on being early so she could meet her friend Caitlyn from school beforehand. Apparently Caitlyn had no interest in baseball, but Dylan’s baby girl was evidently very persuasive for a kindergartner, convincing her friend to join tee ball with her. Then again, if anyone could learn the secret to telling her no, Dylan would pay cash money to learn their secrets.

“Will there be boys on my team?”

“I think so. There weren't separate sign up sheets for boys and girls. Is that okay?”

“Yeah it’s okay. I can run faster than them, anyway.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“Do you think mom will get to come to my games?”

“Hopefully she will, at least one of the last ones,” Dylan said, a sudden sinking feeling gripping him. He knew her mom probably wouldn't come, and not just because she was several states away. The moment Lauren gave birth she was ready to leave for college, spending only the first three months at home with their new baby and her new husband.

As much as Dylan didn't want her to go, they agreed that he would stay home with the baby while she went to college. Lauren’s reasoning was that her career choice could support their little family once she was done with school, but Dylan suspected she would have said anything to get to a university and shake the stigma of having a shotgun wedding and a baby right out of high school. He never doubted that Lauren loved her daughter, she just put her career first, like so many parents these days do.

“Hey! Do not take your seat belt off before I stop the car.”

“But we’re in the parking lot!”

“That doesn't matter. You just sit tight until I find a spot, Sassy.”

Dylan parked the car and barely got his own seat belt off before she had unbuckled her booster seat belt and flew out the door, running around to his side of the car, practically jumping up and down waiting for him to get out. He sighed and took her hand, walking up to where all the other parents and children seemed to be gathered on the grass next to the practice field. Upon seeing the other parents, he didn't appear to be way younger than the rest of them, only a couple, which made him feel better. It was always awkward when he stood with some thirty year old parents waiting for kindergarten to let out, because he could still pass for seventeen on a good day. Some people didn't even believe she was his daughter, assuming he was her older brother sometimes, which was the worst.

He poked a young woman on the shoulder who was juggling water bottles, a cell phone and two gloves. He figured she must know what’s going on, she looked like she had experience with the whole sport parent thing.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but could you tell me where to sign her in?” he asked. She nodded her head toward a dark haired man crouched in the grass in front of a little blonde, freckle faced boy that looked like he wasn't sure he wanted to be there.

“Coach Tyler has the roster, you can let him know you’re here,” she informed him dismissively, then returned to her one fingered texting around her armload.

“Thanks,” Dylan called over his shoulder since he was being dragged away by his excited daughter toward the dark haired guy holding the clipboard. The back of his maroon T-shirt said ‘COACH’ in capital white letters, and Dylan noticed all the volunteer staff seemed to be wearing the same colored t-shirts. Dylan tried to stop his daughter from interrupting the coach and the other child, but she hadn't quite grasped how to wait her turn just yet.

“We’re here to sign in!” she informed him loudly. Dylan cupped a hand over her mouth.

“Emily! What did I say about not interrupting?” he scolded, but the coach turned on his knee in the grass and smiled at her; a wide, bright, genuine smile that very clearly wasn't bothered by her rudeness.

“You must be Emily O’Brien,” he said to her without even checking the clipboard, hazel eyes sparkling at her like she was the most enchanting thing he’d ever seen. Emily wriggled out from behind her dad’s hand and nodded.

“I am! And this is my dad!”

“Dylan,” he told the coach, extending his hand down to where the man was kneeling. The coach took his hand and met his eyes for the first time, and Dylan felt a swooping sensation in his stomach like he’d missed a step. The coach was absolutely incredible; intense hazel eyes, perfect smile, t-shirt stretched slightly over a build that could only come from a lot of hard work; it wouldn't surprise Dylan if the guy was a model. It was rare for a guy to be enough of a knockout to make Dylan look twice, but it had been known to happen before, and he definitely deserved the double take.  

“Tyler, nice to meet you,” he said to Dylan, shaking hands firmly. For a moment Dylan couldn't remember why he was standing there, especially because he couldn't help but feel like he was getting the once over in return. He was suddenly self conscious about his lack of hours spent at the gym, shabby old Levi’s, bed and finger ruffled brown hair and basically everything else about his entire person that just screamed loser. Not that it really mattered, because a lingering glance of appreciation was all he would indulge in anyway (not that he’d ever have a chance with this guy for real, but he felt better about it being a personal choice.) He was faithful to his wife, even if he wasn't so sure she employed the same adherence to her vows while away at college, thanks to some incriminating facebook pictures from a mutual friend, but that was yet another story.

“When do we get to use a bat?” Emily asked, making Dylan and Tyler break their weirdly intense gaze and extended handshake. Tyler turned his attention back to Emily and Dylan watched him snap back into his enthusiastic coach mode.

“Not until next week. We’re going to talk about how the season is going to go, discuss some rules and stuff that is more for your parents to pay attention to, and then we will do a couple catching drills,” Tyler explained, standing up on his feet but still keeping crouched a little so he didn't tower over Emily. He clapped her shoulder lightly. “Is that cool?”

“Well, I already know how to catch. My daddy taught me,” Emily said, smiling up at Dylan proudly. Dylan chuckled and ran her ponytail through his fingers and then rested a hand on her shoulder.

“That’s good! You’re lucky to have a parent that plays catch with you. Do you think you can help me teach the other kids?” Tyler asked and Emily nodded vigorously. “Great. I've got to get everyone signed in first, though. Pull up a patch of grass and have a seat, I’ll be starting in a little bit.”

Dylan and Emily did as they were told, congregating with the other parents and children that had taken a seat on the grass that had just started to get green again after the winter months. Dylan tried to watch other people besides Tyler, and Emily watched everyone, waiting for her friend to turn up. It was minutes away from four o’clock now, and it looked like Caitlyn might have chickened out on joining tee ball with Emily after all.

At quarter after Tyler signed in the stragglers and stood up in front of the small crowd of children and parents with the rest of the volunteer staff that Dylan figured were parents of some of the children. Dylan counted at least twelve kids, thirteen including Emily, and it seemed pretty evenly divided between boys and girls. And then Tyler started to speak and every face on the grass turned to him. Dylan’s pretty sure he heard about four moms around him sigh at the sight of Tyler’s wholesome smile and welcoming presence, or maybe one of them was himself, he didn't want to know.

“Good afternoon, my name is Tyler Hoechlin and I am the team coach, and also the sponsor for the team. I have a small construction company, which is where our team name comes from,” Tyler said with a little less of that over-enthusiastic tone that he used when talking to the kids directly. Dylan realized the front of their maroon shirts read G&H Construction, which he’d never heard of, but assumed it must be at least locally successful to be able to sponsor a team. Tyler went on to explain the differences between tee ball and baseball, and briefly discussed that once they were comfortable with the skills to play the kids could move on to coach pitch next season, which Dylan was certainly familiar with. He actually toyed with putting Emily right into coach pitch and skipping tee ball all together, considering he’d been tossing the ball for her to hit since she started, but she needed to learn how to be on a team first. Emily only started kindergarten back in September, and she was still learning how to get along with other children, having spent most of her time with Dylan and her grandparents up until then.

Dylan watched Emily get bored only moments into all the formalities of Tyler’s speech, busying herself instead with searching for a four leaf clover in the grass between her knees. Dylan had just taught her what the significance of finding one meant, and she’d found it fascinating.

 _‘Blah blah more about your kids and parents bringing snacks and team practices and when games are and such,’_ said Tyler, at least that’s what it sounded like to Dylan, who had been to many of these introduction sorts of speeches when he was a kid in tee ball. Even he had tuned out a little when he should have been paying attention, focusing instead on the way Tyler’s voice didn't necessarily match his appearance and Dylan thought that was kind of interesting. Tyler didn't have a soft voice it... just wasn't as rough as he’d expected. Either way it was still strangely attractive like everything about Tyler. Dylan shook his head at himself and looked away again. He really must need to get some or something; he never usually had this hard of a time not drooling over someone that caught his eye.

When another staff member (Dylan thinks her name was Tammy, he wasn't sure though) brought a ball to Tyler everyone seemed to perk up, even the parents. They knew all about taking turns bringing snack for the kids, where to find the game schedules online and what kids would need to bring with them each time and they were just as ready as their kids to get things rolling.

Emily shook Dylan’s knee excitedly. “Oh my gosh, I think we get to play, dad!”

“No, you get to play, babe. I’m sure they don’t need my help, they have plenty of volunteer parents out there,” Dylan said a little loudly to be heard over the uproar of kids getting up and running onto the field.

Emily stuck out her bottom lip, which Dylan wished she would grow out of because by this point in her life it was more of a strategic tactic to get what she wanted than an actual impulse of sadness.

“Oh, fine,” Dylan said, rolling his eyes a little but he couldn't lie, he was actually sort of excited. Emily grabbed Dylan’s hand once he got up and dragged him onto the field with her, and they were intercepted by the woman Dylan thought was named Tammy. Turns out her name was Tina, and she was the mother of a little, shy, ginger girl named Rebecca.

Tina herded a couple of kids into a group and Dylan noticed that the other volunteer parents were doing the same thing, two groups with four and two groups with three. She was carrying a couple balls in her arm, and Dylan saw the other parents were carrying a few too. Tina told them that Tyler would be demonstrating to the kids a couple catching drills shortly, and she would be helping the kids while he hopped around from group to group.

“Okay, first we’re going to learn some hand-eye coordination,” Tyler said above the noise, making most of the kids turn toward him where he stood in the middle of the field. Dylan snagged a chubby little boy from wandering off and turned him toward Tyler to pay attention while Emily listened studiously. She could be attentive if she wanted to be, a troublesome trait which she definitely inherited from her selective-hearing father. Tyler plucked a child from one of the groups that he seemed to know already. “This is my buddy Christian, and he’s going to help me show you how to do a ball toss drill.”

Tyler stood next to Christian and they assumed the same position: black leather glove on the left hand out in front of him palm up, a ball in the right hand. “You’re going to want to toss the ball up in the air just above your eyes and catch it with your glove, like so,” Tyler said, and he and Christian mirrored each other, tossing the ball in a perfect arch in front of them so it landed in their glove. “You might not catch it at first and that’s okay, just keep trying. You also might not be able to toss it up very high, but with practice you’ll get the hang of it. And if you didn't bring a glove with you today, that’s okay, you can still catch it with your left hand.”

“This is stupid,” Emily said, her gloved hand on her hip. “This is baby stuff!”

“Shhh,” Dylan hissed, but couldn't contain his smile at his sassy daughter. “Some kids might have never played before,” Dylan whispered to her. Emily shrugged and adjusted her hat, impatiently eyeing the baseballs Tina was holding.

On Tyler’s instruction, the volunteers handed each child a ball and supervised as they started trying to toss the ball with one hand and catch it with the other. For the next fifteen minutes or so there was a whole lot of mayhem with equal parts adorable and silliness as the children attempted the “baby stuff.”

Some children could not catch their ball, either throwing it too high and it missing their glove entirely, or dropping it so it hit their foot and rolled away, and some kids got the hang of it pretty quickly. Emily only dropped it a couple times, but she still wasn't throwing it very high. Dylan tried to show her how to throw it a little higher while the other kids in her little group chased their baseballs across the dirt several times.

“Keep up the good work,” Dylan heard Tyler tell several kids, and also stop and help a kid or two in each group. When he finally worked his way to Dylan and Emily, she had pretty much got the hang of it, even if she was still a little nervous about throwing it too high. Tyler clapped at her and the shy girl named Rebecca, who had also got the hang of it pretty fast. “Nice work guys!”

Tyler smiled at Dylan and clapped him on the shoulder, making Dylan’s heart skip a beat or three. “I see she has a good teacher at home. Did you play in school or anything?”

“Uh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. For a couple years, anyway,” Dylan stammered, feeling his cheeks redden a little bit. Come on, man, hold it together, he chastised himself in his head. But Tyler was giving him that lingering smile and Dylan was sure for the second time that he was being weighed and measured, and most definitely found wanting because there was no way he could measure up to Tyler’s standards. Not that he had any reason to be concerned about how attractive Tyler found him, but you know, he could use a confidence boost now and then. Except yet again he was feeling a little deflated, and also very confused as to whether or not he was reading Tyler right at all. Hell, for all Dylan knew, this guy could be married with his own kids. What kind of single dude volunteered to be a tee ball coach for a hobby?

“Here in town, or somewhere else?” Tyler asked, snapping Dylan out of his train of thought.

“Here. I've never been anywhere else,” Dylan said, dreading the college question. Please don’t ask about college.

“That’s cool. Never thought about continuing after high school?”

“No, fate had other plans for me,” Dylan said, appreciating the vagueness of the question. He broke his eye contact with Tyler to look at Emily as she was trying to teach the chubby boy how to grip with his oversized glove so his ball didn't roll out of it. Dylan sighed at his bossy little angel and looked back at Tyler, who was watching Emily now too.  

“It could have been worse, no?” Tyler said, a weirdly vague and presumptuous kind of question. Dylan didn't mind, but he didn't really want to have some deep, philosophical conversation of how much worse he could have had it. Not to mention, the less Tyler knew, the less likely he was to judge Dylan.  

“Yeah, I could have been stuck with Ron instead of Hermione for a child,” Dylan joked, both deflecting the seriousness of the question and hoping that Tyler had any iota of knowledge about his reference, or else this conversation was about to go South. To his relief, Tyler chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder again, all smiles and no trace of judgement.

“Hey, Emily, thanks for giving Joel some pointers,” Tyler said, squatting down to watch the boy actually get the hang of what Emily was teaching him. The other short, skinny, black haired boy in the group was being helped by Rebecca now, since she took her cue from Emily that it was okay to talk to the other people in the group.

Soon Tyler was moving to another group, and then quickly wrapping up the ball toss drill. He told the team that he’d saved relay races for last, which seemed to get mixed reviews from the group Emily was standing in. Actually, only Emily seemed enthused. She’d been waiting to prove she could run faster than the boys since she got there.

Tina and the other 3 volunteer parents collected the balls from their groups and gathered the children into two single file lines. Dylan convinced Emily to let him sit down with the other parents then, since he couldn't exactly run next to her. She agreed, and Dylan found a nice shady spot on the grass where he could see the finish line that Tyler was standing by.

The two rows of children were to face off, and Emily was standing next to the Rebecca girl, looking most disappointed that she wasn't standing next to either of the boys she’d already met. The two boys went first, the chubby one winning only because the other one seemed to be slowing down for him, but Dylan couldn't really tell from where he sat. He could see Emily go next though, and she smoked Rebecca just like Dylan knew she would. Emily certainly got her mother’s cut throat competitive edge, because Dylan would have been the kid waiting for his friend to catch up.

“Daddy I won!” Emily said, running all the way to Dylan, her hat almost flopping off her head from the action.

“I saw, sweetheart! Good job!” He gave her a high five and a hug when she plopped down on the grass next to him to watch the rest of the kids race. It was over pretty quickly, each kid getting the chance to race to touch Tyler’s hand first for bragging rights. Tyler rounded them all up shortly after, parents and children both. The volunteer parents passed out crackers and little pudgy water bottles to the kids while Tyler handed each parent an order form for team jerseys.

Dylan noticed that Tyler’s cell number was on the order form, for any further questions. He felt like an idiot for smiling at the thought of having Tyler’s number, even indirectly. It wasn't like he was ever going to call or anything, but apparently he was still fifteen and stupid. Dylan was going to have to push down this random, bothersome interest in his daughter’s freaking tee ball coach because it was only the first day and he was acting like a fool.

“Alright everybody, good practice! I’ll see you guys Thursday, and don’t forget to remind your parents to bring back the form for your jersey!” Tyler said, giving a couple of the kids high fives and handshakes for the parents. Dylan was ready to scoot the hell out of there, as far away from Tyler as he could, and get a grip on his imagination because it was being awfully rude to him at the moment. Of course Emily had other plans, and she took Dylan’s hand and pulled him right over to Tyler. Apparently she was either sadistic and wanted to torture Dylan or just really enthusiastic about the sport because she started asking Tyler all these questions.

“Are you going to teach me how to slide on a base?” Emily asked, watching Tyler get down to her level again.

“Well, probably not this year. That’s kind of big kid stuff. You could get hurt,” Tyler said, but Emily took the let down in stride, following it up with another question.

“What about stealing a base?”

Tyler smiled, “We’ll see, maybe by the end of the season. Let me teach you the basics with the other kids first, even though your dad already taught them to you. Then we’ll talk about stealing bases and knocking a ball out of the park, deal?”

“Okay, deal,” she said, crossing her arms. “But I want you to teach me, not one of those fat moms that don’t really play.”

Dylan slapped a hand over his eyes and hoped Tyler didn't think he talked like that at home. He honestly didn't know where Emily came up with these things sometimes. Thankfully Tyler laughed, but shushed her though he couldn't keep the million watt smile contained.

“Shhh, they are here to help. They are volunteers, the same as me,” he said, then looked over his shoulder to make sure the other volunteers had closed up shop or were out of earshot. “But I understand. You have my word, Emily O’Brien.”

“Cool,” Emily said excitedly, like she’d just been promised a pony instead of extra baseball lessons from Tyler. For what it was worth, Dylan would rather have lessons with Tyler than a pony too, but that was neither here nor there.

“Come on, Em. We should let Tyler leave,” Dylan said, taking her hand that wasn't clutching her glove. “He probably has his own family to get home to.”

“Um, no, actually,” Tyler said, standing up and looking a little awkwardly at the ring on Dylan’s hand that was around Emily’s. Dylan was caught a bit off guard by that, because he was mostly just saying it for a reason to give Emily. Yet Tyler felt the need to refute it. And that was so terribly intriguing to Dylan that he just had to pretend it didn't happen because he really didn't want to know if Tyler was single and totally checking him out like he’d suspected. God, they had to go.

“Okay well, we’ll see you Thursday,” Dylan said with a little too much enthusiasm, backing up and dragging Emily with him. Tyler waved and nodded, then turned around and headed toward the pile of equipment he’d brought with him. Dylan took a deep breath and exhaled heavily with relief as he and Emily walked back to his car in the parking lot which had thinned out a lot since they got there. He sincerely hoped he could get a better grip on himself on Thursday, or this was going to be a really long couple of months.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

At least the thought of Tyler didn’t really follow Dylan home after he left the field. No, once Dylan got Emily home, made her dinner, gave her a bath and put her to bed he’d been so wiped out he just passed right out. He had work the next day and Emily had school, and by the time he clocked in at his obnoxiously brain numbing job of answering phone calls for a cable company he almost forgot that Emily even had practice the next day.

It was business as usual around the O’Brien residence, until Emily wanted to do a Skype call with her mom Wednesday night and Dylan listened to Emily go on and on about Tyler. Dylan knew that Lauren wished Emily would have taken piano or dance or gymnastics or some shit with tutus and sparkles, but she was still genuinely happy to hear about how much fun Emily had.

It was past Emily’s bed time by the time she and Dylan said their I love yous and good nights to Lauren, and he put her to bed. That night Dylan did think about Tyler while he laid awake in bed, and about how Tyler made sure to tell Dylan he was a bachelor, and how Dylan was so insanely hot for his daughter’s coach and that was so pathetically soccer mom of him. He told himself it would most definitely blow over, and he would be able to take Emily to practice tomorrow and Tyler wouldn't be nearly as hot as he was the first day.

Then he thought about Lauren, and how he hadn't even touched her since Christmas. She went back to school early, saying something about needing to get some reading done over the break and she couldn't do it with Emily running around with her new toys from Christmas. It gave Lauren enough time to see Emily and her family, but hardly a moment alone with Dylan. He told her he understood even though it still hurt like hell, and he watched her leave again, like she had been doing for the last five years.

Dylan sighed into his pillow that he was face down in, and reached for his cellphone. He propped himself up on his elbows and wrote Lauren a quick message.

_-I miss you. call me if youre not busy?_

Dylan fell asleep holding his phone, waiting for a call. When he woke up in the morning he had a text from his best friend, saying they needed to hang out that night, and one from Lauren, telling him that she was busy and would call him another time. Dylan was hardly fazed by her rejecting his request for a call by the time morning came, because he was used to it. She rarely responded to his pathetic, lonely texts in the middle of the night. By now he’d convinced himself that he was the one being selfish, and he shouldn't expect her to call him late on a school night to shoot the shit.

After Dylan picked Emily up from school that day, he started to think about Tyler again. They stopped by the apartment for her to change out of her school clothes and to grab her glove and then they were on their way. For the most part Dylan felt like he’d accepted and gotten over his attraction to Tyler, and also reapplied himself to his vows most importantly. Even if his wife liked to leave him doubting whether or not she was quite as committed, Dylan would never do anything to hurt her or jeopardize what he had, no matter how insanely hot (and possibly interested) Tyler stupid sunbeam smile Hoechlin was.

Practice that day went a little more smoothly than last time, and Emily was comfortable enough now to not need Dylan to stand with her on the field. It probably helped that she felt like her and Tyler were like secret buddies now, which Dylan supposed they were. He certainly didn't favor her over the other kids or anything, at least not from where Dylan could see from his seat on the grass. She just had more reason to act like she owned the place, which probably wouldn't have been any different even if Tyler hadn't seemed to take a liking to her.

While the kids were learning how to properly catch a ball in their gloves Dylan started to observe the other parents there. Some of them were cheering their kids on, even though there wasn't any particular need to cheer. A few were texting or reading books, like they had been doing this for many children before and it had lost its magic for them. Then there was the one guy sitting a couple feet away from Dylan in a lawn chair that had a camcorder. Dylan frowned and inspected the guy further, noticing he couldn't be much older than Dylan at all, but he certainly seemed out of place there. The guy was... really pretty, but still strong and masculine. He looked like an underwear model; tall, blue eyed, dark blonde and fit. He just didn't look like the kind of person that would have a kid at all, let alone bring him to tee ball practice at a middle school in suburbia. And Dylan realized he was stereotyping at the same time the guy realized that he was being stared at and made eye contact.

Before Dylan could look away the guy waved him over, which Dylan found a little presumptuous, like the guy just assumed Dylan wanted to speak to him bad enough to be the one to move, but he got up and shuffled on his knees over to the guy anyway.

“Hey, I’m Colton,” the guy said, shifting his camcorder to his left hand so he could shake Dylan’s with his right.

“I’m Dylan,” he said, shaking the guy’s hand and hoping he didn't want to swap parenting techniques or anything. He hated talking to other people about their kids, which he realized was hypocritical because he loved talking to people about Emily, but other people were so pretentious and annoying about their kids’ worth.

“Which one belongs to you?” Colton asked, looking back out on the field as the many kids continuously held their glove wrong to catch the ball. He was smiling like it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, and he had a set of deep dimples which were cute and made his face even prettier.

“The one with the white and maroon baseball shirt that’s too big for her,” Dylan said, smiling affectionately at Emily, who was wearing one of his old, worn shirts that he’d accidentally shrunk in the dryer back in high school. The ¾ length sleeves on an adult came down to her wrists like a normal long sleeve shirt and it almost reached her knees, but she insisted on wearing it because it would match Tyler’s maroon shirt. Dylan wasn't going to argue with her, since she’d basically hijacked that shirt from him for a pajama shirt over a year ago, anyway.

“She really knows her stuff,” Colton said, nodding when he spotted her. “Her and my nephew are helping Tyler teach the other kids.”

“Oh, Christian is your nephew? I remember him helping Tyler demonstrate on Tuesday,” Dylan said, seeing the smile on Colton’s face was making him smile too. “Has he had Tyler for a coach before?”

“You could say that,” Colton said, looking at Dylan again. His blue eyes were narrowed a little, as if he was assessing whether he wanted to divulge personal information with a stranger. “Tyler and I have been friends for a couple years, actually.”

“That’s cool. He seems like a really nice guy,” Dylan said, hoping he wasn't blushing or anything else really lame. Colton laughed.

“Oh, he’s nice alright. To a fault, really,” Colton replied. “Did you play in high school?”

“Um, yeah, I did,” Dylan said, a little confused by the sudden segue. It was almost like he really didn't want to talk about how nice Tyler was, which was weird. It’s not like they were talking about something scandalous, unless Colton was like, uncomfortable talking about guys or something. “Did you play?”

“Hell no,” Colton said, holding up the camcorder. “I’m just here for bonding time with Christian. I’m out of town a lot, so I wanted to make sure I had a couple days a week designated specifically for him. Plus, I’m kind of here for moral support for Tyler.”

“Moral support?”

“Yeah, he doesn't think he’ll be a good coach. This is his first time pulling together his own tee ball team.”

“How come he went for teaching little kids? He doesn't have any, right?” Dylan asked, probably getting a little too personal, but he was fascinated about why a guy like Tyler wanted to teach five year olds.

“No he doesn't have any. Tyler genuinely likes kids though, and he wanted to start small. He hasn't played in a while, so maybe he will aim a little higher next year, like a middle school coach.”

“How come he hasn't played in a while?”

Colton looked at him sideways, with a smirk like he was waiting for him to ask.

“I mean, it’s not my business to tell you this, but since you asked... He played in college for a while, Arizona State. Then he took a fastball right to the collar bone, broke it to pieces,” Colton explained, punching his fist into his palm to emphasize his story. Dylan got the visual all by himself though and cringed.

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, you don’t heal very easily from something like that, and he hasn't really played a lot since then, except to teach Christian some things. I don’t think he wants to bite off more than he can chew, but still wants to be involved, you know? I mean there’s more to the story, but I’ll let him tell you that.”

“Oh, I’m not going to bother him about it, I was just curious,” Dylan said, shrugging, even though he did want to know very much. He wanted to know why Tyler didn't want to pick it back up once his collar bone healed, and why he came back here, and why Dylan never heard about someone getting a baseball scholarship from his town - among other things. Dylan figured he could probably get the information out of Colton if he really wanted to; the guy seemed to be giving Dylan leading answers to encourage more details for some reason, but he’d already felt like a creeper asking as much as he had.

“You wouldn't bother him, he’s not sensitive about it or anything,” Colton said shaking his head. “Like you said, he’s a nice guy.”

“How did you say you know him, again?” Dylan asked suddenly, wondering why Colton was pushing him to talk to Tyler. It was bothering Dylan a little. Mostly because he had been spending the last couple days purposely _not_ thinking about Tyler and here this guy was, trying to drum up more interest for him.

“We’re old friends,” Colton said, decidedly nonchalant. “So, you said you played? What’s your story?”

“Um, I played until junior year of high school, then knocked up my girlfriend as a senior, so that was the end of that,” Dylan said bluntly, even though he had no reason to be short with him. Colton had no idea that it was a touchy subject for Dylan, but Dylan wasn't one to beat around the bush and he never liked to breach the subject lightly. Either people could handle it or they couldn't, and Dylan usually wanted to get the shock and horror over with if people wanted to think he was a careless horndog that wasted his life or some such thing that people tended to think about teen parents. What pissed him off more than anything was people judging Lauren though, because Dylan knew she was anything but a stupid, irresponsible teenage slut, which was what people assumed when they found out. He’d heard it all from some members of his and Lauren’s family that didn't approve. He always hated that people felt like they had the right to assume things about him or Lauren, because accidents happen, accidents that turned into the light of his life, but in the beginning nobody could see it that way. And yet if Lauren had got rid of Emily or aborted her they would have been just as scandalized, so Dylan never knew what to expect when he told people.  

“Did you marry her?” Colton asked, like that wasn't the most tactless question in the world. Dylan actually laughed at the bluntness Colton dished right back at him. Apparently Colton also didn't see the point of beating around the bush and adhering to social niceties. It was a little bit of an invasion of privacy, but this guy didn't seem to be judging him. He didn't even seem shocked at Dylan’s abrupt answer, and Dylan appreciated that Colton let it roll right off his shoulders. It was usually easier to explain to younger people.

“Yeah, I did actually,” Dylan said, holding his left hand out in front of him. Colton eyed the gold band and nodded. “Five years.”

“I wouldn't have done it,” Colton said, shifting in his chair so he was turned more toward Dylan, like the conversation was just getting good or something. Dylan thought Colton was a little weird, but hey, if he was genuinely interested Dylan’s MTV reality show turned boring and domestic life, then maybe Dylan could make a weird friend out of it.

“I wanted to. I would have asked her even if we didn't have Emily,” Dylan said, smiling a little sadly, wishing people believed him when he said that. He genuinely would have asked her, even if it wouldn't have been for a couple more years or so.

“Honorable, I guess.”

“No, see, some people think I’m some kind of hero for staying with her and raising my own child, but it wasn't a chore,” Dylan said, looking out to the field to watch Emily doing a couple more ball toss drills with everyone else without complaining just like she promised Tyler she would. “I mean maybe some guys freak out and leave, and of course I was a wreck when I initially found out, but the last thing I wanted to do was run. I was more afraid of losing Lauren, because I’d already been building my life around her since I was a freshman. I was even going to go to a school near hers after we graduated, even though there is a perfectly decent school in the state.”

“Really? Not to be rude, but why would you start building your life around your girlfriend when you were fourteen years old?” Colton replied with all the skepticism in the world. “Either you were a giant, awkward dweeb with no friends in high school, or you've got some kind of co-dependency issues, man. No chick is that awesome in high school.”

“Thanks for that assessment, Dr. Colton. Who should I make the check payable to for your services?” Dylan said with an eyeroll, wondering how in the flying fuck he started sharing his life story with a stranger on the grass of some field like they were old friends or something. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he just wasn't used to talking to someone that cut all the bullshit right in the door. Still, Colton wasn't telling him anything he didn't know, but it didn't change that he had always made Lauren the center of his world, though.

“Colton Haynes is fine,” Colton said with a small smile at Dylan, who was not smiling back, even though he wasn't necessarily mad or anything. “Sorry, I didn't mean to be a dick. I’m sure your wife is a wonderful person that loves you very much.”

“Yeah,” was all Dylan could say, because that sentence hurt way more than Colton telling him he had issues. Dylan hadn't even admitted it to himself yet, but it was starting to feel like Lauren was not nearly as smitten with Dylan as he was with her, at least not lately. Lately as in the last year or so, where she rarely returned a call unless Emily was the one to leave her the voicemail.

Dylan noticed Colton looking at him with a raised eyebrow, probably at his lack of enthusiasm in that response, so Dylan changed the subject quickly again. “So, what do you do, anyway? That jacket you’re wearing looks like it costs more than my house.”

Colton laughed, and Dylan was happy to see that he’d figured out honesty was how to amuse Colton and keep him interested in a conversation. “It’s Belstaff. Not more than your house, but definitely more than it should. And I model.”

“Of course you do, look at that jawline,” Dylan said, rolling his eyes. “And by modeling you mean porn, right?”

“Little bit,” Colton said seriously. Dylan’s eyes widened and he laughed out loud, unable to stop himself.

“I was kidding!”

“I wasn't,” Colton said, shrugging. “Paid for college.”

“Jesus. And.... Tyler?” Dylan asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer, or whether he was being pathetically transparent by asking. “That’s not where you met him, is it?”

“God, no,” Colton laughed loudly, “He believes in love and commitment and all that stuff. He’s not a prude, but he’s not... well, he’s not interested in flings, I guess. And amature college porn is definitely way too scandalous for him.”

“Shhh, we’re surrounded by kids, dude. Don’t talk about gay porn,” Dylan said, blushing furiously and wondering how in the fuck he got on the topic of Tyler’s love life with a stranger.

“What makes you think I was doing gay porn?” Colton said with narrowed eyes, ignoring Dylan’s reminder of their young audience.

“Uh-” Dylan said intelligently, mouth gaping a little, not sure where to go from here. “I just- I mean it might have been- you know - with a girl. I don’t know. You never know what people are into these days?”

Colton cracked his serious face with that double dimpled smile and a head shake. “I’m just messing with you. You’re funny.”

Dylan let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding in and tried to force out a laugh. He didn’t feel very funny at the moment, more like an idiot with his foot in his mouth, but Colton didn't seem to be offended. He also didn't seem to be confirming or denying the gay porn thing, which Dylan thought was interesting, but wouldn't risk making a bigger ass of himself by asking. Perhaps it was implied somewhere in the subtleties and he missed it.

“He’s watching us,” Colton said, which threw Dylan into another state of panic for some reason.

“What?”

Dylan whipped his head up and saw that snacks had been passed out, and Tyler was in fact leaning on his knee that was hiked up, a foot on the blue Coleman cooler full of water bottles, staring at Dylan and Colton.

“He probably thinks I’m hitting on you,” Colton said seriously, waving at Tyler to acknowledge the staring. Tyler blinked a couple times and tried to act busy tying his shoe that was parked on the cooler, but he’d been staring at them too intensely for that to be believable. Dylan tore his attention away from Tyler to stare skeptically at Colton.

“Why would he think that?” Dylan asked, but more importantly, he wanted to know why it would matter if Colton was hitting on him.

“Because I've been forbidden from picking anyone up from his tee ball practices,” Colton said with a sigh. “Thinks it will reflect badly on him as a coach.”

“Oh,” Dylan said, knitting his brows, not really knowing how to take that. “I mean yeah, a little.”

“Well, I've got no interest in the kind of people here, so he can relax,” Colton said. Dylan watched Colton stand up and slide a bag with his camcorder in it over his shoulder and figured he should probably head up there and get Emily too. Colton offered his hand to Dylan to pull him up, which Dylan took even though he could get himself up just fine. He was pulled from the ground with surprising strength and he staggered a little. Apparently Colton was made of that crazy lean muscle that gets hidden under clothes easily, unlike Dylan, who was made of just enough muscle to get out of bed in the morning and maybe carry an extra bag of groceries up the stairs.

Emily and Christian were helping to put all the balls away when they arrived. Dylan figured they would be the team brown nosers, and if he knew Emily, she’d manipulate her way right to team manager if they let her. Tyler was clipping a stack of jersey forms to a clipboard, which reminded Dylan that he had Emily’s all folded up in his wallet. Tyler looked up from his clipboard, pen in his mouth, when Colton walked into his personal space for a hug.

“Oh, hey,” Tyler said removing the pen and giving Colton a side hug with one arm. “Glad you could make it today, man.”

“Holland went back to L.A. today, so I should be here for the rest of the month at least, unless something comes up,” Colton said while Dylan stood there awkwardly. A couple stray parents handed Tyler forms and he waved goodbye to them, telling their kids what a good job they did. Then it was just the five of them on the field, and Emily ran up to Dylan excitedly.

“This is the coolest thing, dad! Did you see me catching?” she asked, hugging her dad around the thighs. He held her head to him and swept the sweaty bangs off of her forehead. It wasn't very warm out, but she had gotten pretty into the practice.

“I did, and I saw you helping the other kids, too,” Dylan said, trying to smooth out the folded up form against his chest with one hand. Christian waved her back over to play catch and she looked up at Dylan.

“Can I?”

“For a little bit,” he said, pleased that she made a friend, even if he wasn't sure how he felt about it being Colton’s nephew. He wasn't sure how close he wanted to be to Colton and Tyler on a regular basis, plus he had to endure extra lessons with Tyler for Emily as it was. His knees were already a little weak being within touching distance of Tyler for two minutes. It was bad news.

“I can take that,” Tyler said, holding his hand out for the form Dylan was still holding to his chest absentmindedly as he watched Emily run back over to Christian, her ponytail bobbing.

“Oh, sorry,” Dylan said, shaking his head a little to clear it, but it was short lived because looking up at Tyler’s face made him forget his own name. He fell right into Tyler’s pretty hazel eyes that had cute little smile induced crows feet starting at the sides, and Tyler stared right back into his own eyes. Dylan wondered if everyone got that flushed with the desire to taste Tyler’s adorable front teeth that he flashed every time he smiled.

“Oh my- _really?_ ” Colton said, looking back and forth between them as they gawked at each other like idiots. Tyler blinked a couple times and looked at Colton like he was an alien.

“What?” Tyler said, drawing his eyebrows together at Colton, probably for interrupting.

“You’re just ridiculous,” Colton said, then slapped Tyler on the chest and looked at Dylan. “We’re going to grab a beer at Jeff’s around seven if you wanted to meet us. We’d love to see you there.”

“ _We would?!_ ” Tyler said, looking at Colton like he’d lost his freaking mind, then looked at Dylan with the same wide eyes that Dylan was probably giving him. “I mean, we would. But you don’t have to. I’m sorry about him, he’s obnoxious.”

“No, I will,” Dylan said, the words flying right out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Did he really just agree to go out with these people? One of them he couldn't even look at without feeling like he was free falling and the other one was a lunatic, from what he could tell. “I mean, unless you don’t want me to.”

“No, I do! I just... I didn't want you to feel like you had to,” Tyler said, trying to backpedal from his reaction to Colton inviting him. “Plus... you know it’s uh... it’s not a regular bar.”

“It’s a gay bar,” Colton supplied, rolling his eyes again. “You’re useless, Hoechlin.”

“Hey, you invited a married man to a gay bar. I thought I would give him the benefit of knowing what he was walking into. It’s not everybody’s thing, you know?” Tyler said, then wiped a hand over his face like this was going so far away from okay that he couldn't handle it.

“It’s fine, Tyler,” Dylan said, torn between amusement and distress, which he internalized both with impressive poise considering how much he was freaking out on the inside. If nothing else, it confirmed that he wasn't crazy, and Tyler was either gay or kind of not straight like Dylan, not that he needed any confirmation or anything.

“Well, I’ll see you both there at seven, then. Don’t chicken out, O’Brien,” Colton said, slapping Dylan on the bicep a bit before taking off to collect Christian.

“Sorry,” Tyler said for no apparent reason, rubbing the back of his head and looking a little miserable.

“About what?” Dylan asked, hoping Tyler didn't regret that Colton invited him, even though he probably should regret it himself.

“I was hoping to make a point of not getting personally involved with any of my team’s parents,” Tyler admitted, not looking Dylan in the eye.

“It’s just a beer, Tyler. You don’t have to be my best friend after or anything,” Dylan said, trying to sound comforting, but it came out sounding more hurt.

“No, it’s not that I don’t- You know what, I’m happy you’ll be there, Dylan,” Tyler said, holding his hand out for Dylan to shake with a smile on his face. Dylan shook his hand and was so scared of not letting go he kind of let go too soon, making it all the more awkward. Tyler didn't seem to flinch at the the weak handshake, but still looked a little unsure about the situation.

Dylan felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, just once, for a text.

“Oh hey, is it okay if I bring a friend? I just remembered I’m supposed to meet him tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Probably better, actually. Colton won’t spend every moment trying to figure you out if he’s got someone else to focus on too.”

“Cool. His name is Tyler too, but he responds to plenty of other things, so it shouldn't be too confusing. And honestly, he will probably gel strangely well with Colton,” Dylan said, realizing how true that sentence probably was. It made him feel better about the situation already.

It suddenly occurred to Dylan that his daughter hadn't returned after Colton and Christian left, and he looked around Tyler to see where she went. He sighed when he saw her sitting in the dusty dirt on the field, burying both of her legs like a weird dirt mermaid. Kids were bizarre.

“Hang on, I have to collect my monster,” he told Tyler, trying to get his legs to move from the spot. He walked over to where she sat, drawing lines in the dirt on her jeans. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Waiting for you,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but didn't bother looking up from her dirt piled legs.

“I thought I was the one waiting for you?”

“Christian’s uncle said you guys were having grown up talk,” Emily said, staring to dust her legs off.

“Oh, um, we were just... talking about... baseball,” Dylan lied, not really wanting to tell his daughter he was meeting with her coach without her. Then he’d have to explain why she couldn't come along, and it wouldn't go well.

“Okay, are we leaving?”

“Yeah, you’re staying with grandma tonight, so we have to get you a bath soon. Especially since you just buried yourself alive.”

“I was bored.”

“In two minutes?” Dylan asked, smiling at her. “Don’t forget your water bottle.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, handing her dad her water bottle so she could take his other hand, her baseball glove clutched in the other.

“Goodbye, Emily! We’ll see ya on Tuesday,” Tyler called out to them from where he was packing equipment in the back of his big, red truck. Dylan noticed that it had the logo and number for his construction company on the door, and it all just seemed entirely fitting. Dylan couldn't explain it, but everything about Tyler was just... as it should be. He was honestly waiting for the other shoe to drop because Tyler had to have some kind of flaw somewhere. But Dylan couldn't find one, especially not since he was watching Tyler lift a giant cooler on the back of the truck like it was made of paper instead of loaded with ice and dozens of water bottles and it kind of made the muscles in his back stretch his shirt appealingly.

“Come on, dad!” Emily said from inside the car, and Dylan realized he was standing at the driver’s side door, just... standing and staring over the top of the car like a freak. He snapped into gear and got in the car, shaking his head to clear any thoughts of Tyler, especially ones that involved how his perfect physique would feel to the touch. How in the hell was Dylan going to survive the night?

Before Dylan pulled out of the parking lot he pulled out his phone and sent his best friend a quick text.

_ -Dude Im so sorry but I sort of roped you into going 2 a gay bar with me tonight... Hope thats cool. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---] Chapter 3 will take me a little longer to get up, but hopefully soon!

**Author's Note:**

> \---] I should have chapter 2 up by later tonight or tomorrow! =)


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